Fridge of SIGHS

When you’re in a fix, call the repairman

- Rosie x

Who would have thought that William Shakespeare of all people would have known about my fridge. ‘When sorrows come,’ he wrote in Hamlet, and I know it was him because I’ve just looked it up, ‘they come not single spies. But in battalions.’

It was weeks and weeks ago, possibly months, that I first drew Mr Dear’s attention to the leak. Water seemed to be dribbling out of the door. Would he take a look at it?

‘Humph,’ he said.

We had the same discussion a fortnight later.

‘Humph,’ he said.

Another fortnight later, Mr D happened to walk into the kitchen when I was wringing out the towel at the bottom of the fridge. This was a tactical error on his part. Or possibly a strategic error. I forget which.

‘Let me have a look at it,’ he said.

He had a look at it. ‘There’s a lot of water there,’ he said. ‘There’s obviously a leak from somewhere.’

This is how Mrs Einstein must have felt when Albert first announced that he had discovered relativity, and wondered what was for dinner. Or Mrs Caesar on receiving a postcard from Julius in Britannicus: ‘Came, saw, conquered. Weather not so rainy today.’